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The gentle light of sunrise spilled through the window, draping the bed in its muted golden glow. Steve stayed perfectly still, letting the moment stretch around him, as though any movement would shatter the fragile calm of early morning that he had woken to. Lyss lay beside him, still deep in sleep. God, he adored her. Especially like this, so soft and unguarded. A few loose strands of hair had fallen across her eyes, and her lips parted just enough to let out slow, steady breaths.
He eased himself out of bed, moving with the kind of care reserved for mornings like this when he was the first to wake, not wanting to disturb her peace. The shift from the warmth of being nestled under the covers beside Lyss to the cool bite of the kitchen tiles beneath his bare feet was enough to chase away the last traces of sleep, the sensation providing a small, familiar shock that grounded him into waking. He left the lights off. The rising sun spilling through the window was all he needed, as it painted the countertops in muted gold with more than enough light to work by.
Before long, the scent of brewing coffee filled the air, twining with the faint sweetness of the batter. Steve hummed under his breath, some old song that he didn't remember the lyrics to, the rhythm matching the steady scrape of the whisk against the bowl he cradled in his arms. He'd spent days committing her favourite recipe to memory, pouring over the scribbled notes she'd left in the margins. More than once, he'd found himself flipping back to that page just to make sure, even snapping a photo of it so that he could refer back as often as possible without arousing suspicion from Lyss. By this point, there was no way he would ever forget the recipe. He'd read it so often that it felt like second nature as he combined the ingredients, as though these pancakes had always been a staple of his mornings. A dash of cinnamon warmed the batter while blueberries and chunks of white chocolate waited in a separate bowl to be added in at the last possible moment, just the way she liked, so they'd hold their shape in the final pancakes rather than becoming a gooey mess. Lyss always swore they were the best this way, and the way her eyes lit up at that first bite was enough to make him believe her every single time.
Mornings like this were rarer than they should be. No expectations, no meetings, no calls dragging him into the chaos of work before the sun was fully up. Steve was determined to savour every moment, to breathe in the gentle calm that came when the weight of responsibility was lifted from his shoulders. Just for today, he wasn't Captain America. The world didn't need him right now. Here, in the small Brooklyn apartment he'd come to call home, he was simply Steve Rogers. Just a man spending the perfect day with the girl of his dreams. Weeks ago, he'd cornered Tony after an Avengers meeting and made it clear that this day mattered, and nothing was to interrupt it. He'd sworn to himself that everything would be perfect, and that was a promise that he fully intended to keep.
Lyss wandered into the kitchen just as he was pouring the last portion of batter into the pan, her eyes heavy with sleep and a softness in her slow movements. She reached up, fingers threading through the tangled strands of her hair, trying to tame the chaos it had become while she slept. "Mm, morning love," she hummed, voice low and warm, full of adoration as ever.
"Good morning, Lyssie," Steve tore his gaze away from the pan, turning to meet her gaze for a quiet moment. That bright smile of hers always had a way of easing the tightest knots in his chest, and it was no different this time around. A calm settled over him at the sight of it, a certainty that today would be the kind of perfect he had promised to himself. "Coffee's ready, if you want some," he said softly.
With no second thought on the matter, she made a beeline for the coffee machine, fingers drumming a rhythm on the counter as she poured two steaming cups. "So, what's all this?" she murmured into her cup. That first sip of coffee warmed her from the inside, a gentle comfort in her half-asleep state. It didn't quite wake her up fully just yet, but the warmth of the drink made her hum with satisfaction.
"I'm making breakfast," Steve said softly. "Your favourite pancakes." He didn't need to see her face to know the way it would light up at those words. She moved quickly to his side, eyes shining as she wrapped him in a hug and pressed a soft kiss to his bare shoulder. Steve grinned at the feeling of her warmth against his side, his arm coming up instinctively to loop around her waist and tug her closer for a second.
"You are so good to me," she whispered happily. Just that small acknowledgement made a warmth settle in Steve's chest, his smile turning tender now. He adored this girl with everything he had, everything he was. Why wouldn't he do anything and everything he could to see that pretty little smile spread across her face?
After a quiet moment, Steve's response was soft but certain. "You're worth being good to." He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before stepping back, returning his focus to the pancakes.
Lyss moved back to the table, curling her fingers around the warm mug as she settled back into her chair. Her eyes remained fixed on Steve as he plated their breakfast. He'd even remembered the fruit on the side, paired with melted chocolate for dipping. Just this small, thoughtful touch made her eyes sparkle with delight.
Once everything was ready, Steve picked up their plates and led the way out to the balcony. A quiet excitement was barely held in check by his calm exterior—he'd already set everything up and was desperate to see the way Lyss would respond to the effort he'd made. The balcony overlooked his beloved Brooklyn, the rooftops of his favourite place in the world bathed in the glow of the morning sun. The air was cool, caressing their skin tenderly with no bite of cold. It was almost refreshing, especially when paired with the chorus of early morning birdsong.
The small table they kept out there was draped in a soft cloth for the occasion, with a centrepiece of fresh flowers arranged into a vase to bring it all together. Steve had spent hours picking them out the previous night, ensuring it was filled with all the flowers Lyss had told him were her favourites. White lilies and pink roses were the centrepiece, with small bunches of lavender bringing the bouquet together and making it cohesive and beautiful.
Lyss gasped softly as she took in the sight before her. "Oh, it's gorgeous…" she whispered, biting her lip to hold back tears of joy as she realised just how much effort Steve had gone to for this. "You didn't need to do all of this…"
Steve shook his head slightly, setting the plates down on the table so that his hands were free to cup her face. "I didn't need to, no. But I wanted to, Lyssie. You're worth all of this and so much more."
Lyss bit her lip, looking up so that she could meet her boyfriend's eyes. "Really?" she whispered. Just that single word, tinged with hope and adoration and something else that Steve couldn't quite make sense of.
"Really, sweetheart," he promised. "Now come on, lets eat before it all gets cold."
As they ate, Steve's hand found Lyss's across the table again and again, gentle squeezes saying everything that they just didn't need to put into words. The silence between them was comfortable, safe and tender. Before meeting Steve, Lyss was never comfortable with silence, always feeling that she needed to find some way to fill it, unsettled by the innate awkwardness it brought upon her. But here, with him… it was different. She didn't feel that she needed to break the quiet that settled over them.
Later that morning, the pair curled together on the couch, limbs twined together as Steve's light fingers brushed gently through the strands of Lyss's hair. He brushed a light kiss against her temple, humming low and warm in his throat. "Happy anniversary, my love," he whispered. "Here's to so many more, and to the rest of our lives together."